


The Hangman in the Mirror

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Canon Keela Lavellan [32]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Post-Relationship, Solavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the final battle, Solas tells her what she needs to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hangman in the Mirror

As the world erupts in green light beyond the War Room’s windows and the mark burns in her hand, Keela can’t help but feel relieved.

 _Finally_ , she thinks. Her advisors worry over the meaning, but she knows what this is. It is a summons, a challenge for the fate of the world. Corypheus is playing his last hand and she is grateful for it. They are both out of moves. She wastes little time in debating and runs down the hallway and across Josephine’s office to find the main hall in chaos. Soldiers storm through the screaming nobles who clutch to one another in fear.

“Herald, save us!”

“The Inquisitor will protect us!” they yell when they finally see her. As she sprints by, the more devout brush her arms and whisper prayers. She can only spare them a few nods and weak smiles in her haste. When she reaches the main door she finds the rest of the Inner Circle waiting in an intimidating line. All are battle ready and straighten as she approaches.

Bull is the first to speak with excitement glowing on his face. “This is it, isn’t it, Boss?”

“If he was going to make it this easy, we could’ve been lounging about in leisure instead of running around all of Thedas,” Dorian mutters. “I still have sand in places.”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Bull says and it makes the Tevinter bite something back in his native tongue.

“Wasn’t the ending I saw coming, but Corypheus definitely has a way of surprising me.”

“It is not over yet, Varric,” Cassandra responds to the dwarf.

“I trust you have a plan, Inquisitor?” Vivienne asks.

“Yes, I-Ah!” The mark scorches her skin and forces her to bend over in pain. Keela feels arms supporting her and finds Cassandra by her side. It is like all those months before when she woke up in chains, the only survivor of a world blown apart. Yet so many things are different now.

“Are you all right?” the warrior asks, concern in her eyes when they once existed only suspicion.

“Yes, I just…we don’t have much time,” Keela says as she straightens. “Four of us will go face Corypheus. The rest of you I need to stay around the perimeter of the temple for I have no doubt demons are pouring out of that hole just like before. With the army gone, the soldiers remaining will require all the help they can get.”

“Who will accompany you?” Cassandra asks.

Keela takes a breath and catches the eyes of each of them, even Solas, but it is a brief contact. She can’t afford to be lost in that battle now. As much as she wants to face the end with him, the last week is a grave indicator of how much of a distraction he is to her. Does he know what irony has done to his reasoning?

“Cassandra, Bull and Dorian will come with me. I do not know what awaits us, or what will be left after, but this must end. Do not hold back, watch over each other, and know I will do whatever it takes to stop him. Let’s move out.”

She is halfway down the steps when his voice cries out to her. “Inquisitor!”

Keela chooses to ignore him and all but flies down into the upper courtyard, teeth grinding against one another. She can hear him approaching on quick feet and wonders why she thought it would be easy to leave Solas behind. She stops and lets him spring in front of her, but does not refrain from pining him with eyes cold and fierce at the same time.

“You must take me with you.”

“I _must_?” she repeats, voice laced with anger. “Were you made leader while my back was turned?”

He gives her an impatient glare and fire flares within her. “He will have the orb and I am the only one with sufficient knowledge of its workings. It should be retrieved and you will need my help to do so.”

The voices of the well whisper in her ear. “That may have been true once, _hahren_ , but no longer. We are wasting time and I have made my decision.”

She brushes by him and continues on towards the gate. Keela only makes it a few steps before he grabs her by the elbow and forces her back around. “You are being unreasonable.”

A snarl leaves her at that and Varric gives a low whistle nearby. She glances at the others. “Go ready our mounts. I will be there shortly.”

When they are alone amongst the bustling fortress, Keela turns her blazing attention back to Solas. “ _I'm_ the unreasonable one?”

“This battle will be larger than anything we've ever faced and you know I will be of the most assistance. You are letting personal issues cloud your judgment. I told you to harden your heart-"

Keela slashes her hand through the air, silencing his words. "You do not command me.”

And because it’s the end of the world and she’s tired of fighting, pretending, being things she promised she never would, she stalks closer to him with a finger pointed. “And no, you would have me turn my heart into a weapon, and I will not do it. I can’t. If I become as hard as this hurt, I will be no better than Corypheus. I will be nothing without it, do you not see that? Do you know me so little?"

His temper softens and Solas steps forward until she can see the deeper colors of his eyes. "You are right and I deserve your anger and so much more. But I am begging you to allow this. Please Keela, I...I need to be there."

"Why, Solas? _Why_?"

He pauses, mouth turning down into a grimace that speaks of secrets he will never share. Keela rolls her eyes and pivots to look over the lower courtyard. Her people rush about as the sky crumbles, but there is no chaos to their steps. They move like ants across a colony, purpose and dedication guiding their actions. Keela can see her closest companions strapping on saddles, extra weapons and steeled determination. She knows most of their deepest secrets, knows they will die for this cause with her name on their lips.

And what does she know of Solas, whose bare body she’s mapped with lips and fingers?

The mark flares to life in her fist, its magic racing threw her veins like lightning. She grits her teeth against the shock and sees him step closer from the corner of her eye. Keela pushes the power down, forcing her own will on the anchor. Fingers open to reveal it simmering on the surface of her skin, strange and familiar at the same time. Just like him.

There is no time for this, but she must have the truth. She must face this last evil decided, not broken in two pieces. Corypheus will tear her to shreds with her halfhearted attempt.

“You love me,” she says, and there is no question about it, no matter how hard he tries to guard himself. Keela moves, shortening the distance between them. “And I remember your tombstone from the Fade, Solas. You love me so much that you would rather face the possibility of your greatest fear coming true than expose me to whatever consuming truth you’ve been keeping. Did you think me so childish, so selfish in my own sorrow that I would not see that?”

His controlled expression slowly slips away with every word she speaks. He looks close to shattering as she stops in front of him, the tips of her worn boots touching his toes. “I gave you everything,” she says, voice betraying her. “I gave you everything because I trusted you, I believed in you. I thought with time…but you do not trust me.”

“That is not tr-”

“It is!” but then, softer, “it is. I am asking you one last time. Put your trust in me and tell me the truth. Your sacrifice is noble, but it is not what I need. I need to hear the truth or nothing from you ever again, do you understand?”

This is it then. She never wanted to give him an ultimatum, for she knows better than most how some choices can be traps with teeth. But he will surely get her killed tonight if this continues. He pulled away to protect her, but he wounds her with every forlorn glance he thinks she doesn’t notice, with how his barriers caress her skin with love woven into the very fabric.

Perhaps the Solas she met atop that mountain months and months ago could have fooled her, but they are both changed, and he either can’t see it or thinks no one else can. But she has slept inside his dreams, tasted his hopes on her tongue. He is a half-finished contract within her breast and she needs it filled or burned to ash.

She will not run into this battle, to her possible death, with the threads of her life so unraveled.

She grabs onto his collar with both hands, face desperate and open. “ _Say something real or leave_.”

“You cannot know what you ask.” His fingers wrap around hers and the look he gives her is filled with a weary sadness too deep for someone of his age. His grip is strong, but foreign. How can someone hold you so close yet be so far away? It torments her to realize she knows so little about him, but from this simple touch she knows what his answer is.

Keela looks up into his eyes, searching, pleading, in a last effort. His voice echoes inside her head and mixes with all the ancestors swarming within. They’re speaking to her, trying to pull the truth from him by force. She doesn’t resist the Vir’abelasan and lets its wisdom wash over her. They’re loud, persistence, almost frantic. The longer she looks into his eyes, the more she can hear them, the more she thinks she can finally understand.

The truth trembles just within reach. Something in his expression changes, as if he too can hear the symphony of voices, and he moves back from her all at once. His absence makes her gasp and the voices disappear with a final shout of frustration. Everything seems to disappear except the two of them and the cold, cold chasm in-between.

“Who are you?” she asks to his back and watches as he hangs his head. The cold seeps into her mouth, down her throat and towards her heart. Perhaps she can make a weapon of it after all.

The noise of Skyhold snaps back into place as the anchor nips at her hand, reminding her of the world breaking apart. She will fix it and pick up the broken pieces, but he will be a piece she leaves behind. Keela takes a breath, feeling lighter than she has in weeks.

“Dareth shiral, hahren,” she says, proud of the way her voice comes out clear and detached, as if he is just another face before her throne. Was he ever anything more? With only a second of hesitation, Keela leaves and begins her own journey towards the end.

"I will tell you everything."

Despite the clamor of war and weapons, the pounding of feet and horses crying with excitement, Keela hears his quiet words and stops. She does not dare turn around.

"Allow me to stand by your side and I will lay all my secrets at your feet." Solas says mere inches from her ear and she can’t stop from jumping in surprise. Gentle hands turn their bodies towards each other, but Keela keeps her head down, breath forgotten. "It has been so long since I could place my trust in anyone. You do not know how I wish for it, for an end to this loneliness.”

His fingers tickle beneath her chin and force her to catch his gaze. But it is a heavy thing to hold and she struggles with the offering. It is filled with faith and sorrow, love and fear. “I trust you and I have spent what feels like centuries denying my heart."

"Solas," she chokes on his name. Hope flutters in her breast, but she won't let it fly just yet. "If you change your mind, I won't-I..." _I will not survive it_.

"I will help you break Mythal's chains and I will reveal every truth I thought to hide. I swear it, vhenan."

But she needs more than words. She needs...she needs-

"Kiss me," she says and watches his eyebrows lift. "Seal this promise with skin and make me believe it. Please, I need to believe it."

His shock lasts but moments before he is against her, his hands possessive and powerful as he wraps them around her cheeks. Part of Keela wants to escape from the sudden heat in his gaze for she fears and craves it at the same time, but she does not shy away as his lips meet hers. Warmth rushes into her limbs and she startles to realize just how numb her world has become.

Solas moves his hands around her, holding her tight and secure. Fingers grip the back of her neck and send shivers down her spine. When a small moan escapes his mouth, as if he wants this more than she, Keela lets her hope flourish in her breast like a brilliant sunrise. Arms snake around his neck and pull him closer as electricity surges between their connected bodies. She remembers every kiss, every touch and ecstasy shared and drowns in the words of love and encouragement he poured over her.

Something rises from the ashes inside, something she thought lost in the depths of the well, lost as his touch turned to only memory against her skin and her given name shuffled to the bottom of a pile beneath so many others. It was betrayed by talk of gods and idols once thought made of stars and universes only to be made of soft flesh and twisted dreams.

As the world falls down around them, she believes again.

Keela smiles, whole and determined, as they part. "Let us face this together then.”

She spins around to run towards the lower courtyard and doesn't notice the few seconds Solas lags behind. She doesn't notice how his encouraging expression drops to one of utter desolation, or the way his shoulders shake as he takes a fractured breath. All of that is gone as quickly as it comes and when she sees him next, just a stride behind her, his face betrays nothing.

Her gaze drinks him in before she storms through the gates on the back of the giant hart. His kiss lingers sweet upon her lips, the promise of new beginnings spurring her onward. She will win this war and then all her questions will be answered. She can forgive him everything when this is over.

Solas follows behind on a brown mare as her kiss burns rancid upon his lips. He thinks of all the Dalish tales of deceit whispered around campfires, of the Dread Wolf who preys upon their weaknesses. The god has never pulled a trick as horrible as this.

When it is over, she will never forgive him.


End file.
